


Peccant

by orionCipher



Series: IgNoct Week 2017 [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Past Mutilation, Yandere!Ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionCipher/pseuds/orionCipher
Summary: Day 7Simple: Scars/Scar WorshipSituational: Role Reversal AU (Prince Ignis/Crownsguard Noctis)





	Peccant

“Never letting go, Noct.”

Ignis traces the scars that took his sight, delights in the shivers running through the body beneath his with each brush over his cheeks.

“ _Never_.”

He ducks down for a kiss; a simple press of the lips until Noctis gasps and he slips inside, tongue making it’s home against its slick counterpart and coaxing it to action. Eventually Ignis pulls back and revels in the show – his breathing’s hitching, heart racing, Noctis’ milky eyes unfocused and glazed beneath his disheveled fringe, and those _tears_ , all of it with that pretty little flush - inviting him back to to finish the meal.

How deliciously willful.

Ignis slips a dagger from the void, snipping those pesky buttons from Noct’s frock, pleased to see his perky nipples already puffing. His crownsguard is so ~~well trained~~ _responsive_ , so he rewards him by spends some _quality_ time with each of them, laving and biting in turn, reveling in Nocts throaty gasps, the little bucks of his hip, the way his cute little tongue peeks out and starts to loll.

“Who do you belong to, lovely?” He whispers into his chest, arms sneaking up those battered sides, pausing only to revel in the silky scars his guard’s racked up over the years. A bullet from a long dead Magitech, where a Spiracorn all but gored him, where Aranea almost sliced his side wide open.

“ _Tell me_ ,” His hands ring the elders neck, grip firm even as Noct gurgles and chokes.

“Oh, that’s right!”

He smothers those blind eyes in kisses, one hand dropping to trace the still pink flesh across his delicate collarbones.

“I,” Noctis half convulses beneath him, little nubs flailing.

“G, ”After all,

“N,” Why would Noctis need legs anymore?

“I,” It’s not like he’d be going anywhere.

“S!” He belongs right here with is prince, _forever_.


End file.
